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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520093">Still Waters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer'>CloudDreamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prince With A Thousand Enemies [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dr. Carmilla (Musician), The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt No Comfort, Medical Experimentation, Mortality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 05:15:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maki Yamazaki is (not) fragile.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dr Carmilla &amp; Clone Maki Yamazaki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prince With A Thousand Enemies [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Still Waters</h2></a>
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    <p>She should, by all rights, be made of glass.</p><p>Her body is fragile, a single fall could leave her limb out of place, needing to be shoved back in violently. But every time it happens, every time she falls apart, she is put back together. The sharp ache of someone else’s force is nothing to her, by now. Even the fire that licks at the tip of her fingers, threatening to consume her, is a gentle tickle more than it is a scream. And she knows it isn’t good for her to sit there, wide eyed and numb as blood trickles down her chest. </p><p>But she’s not going to fall to pieces when bits of her are pulled up and apart, just to see the bone. Just to crack it on purpose. She doesn’t need anesthetic, she says, no expression on her face at all. Nothing in her tone. She is strong, and she knows the Doctor likes it when she’s strong. If she acts like this is normal, shows no sign of the fear she forces down her throat, then they act accordingly. If they are a monster in her mind, a monster they act. And this is normal.</p><p>She doesn’t think of all the hushed conversations in the shadows, when performances ran long and someone’s coaxed words from between her trembling lips. When other performers whisper, it’s not right, you shouldn’t need to fear what, by all the tradition, should be something closer than family. The bond of music should protect you, and Maki protests, weakly, that it does. That she’s safe when their fingers on on their ukulele’s strings instead of clutched too tight on their wrist, about to tug it out of place and leaving bruises for weeks. And the others just look at her with something like pity. She thinks they might be talking about love.</p><p>She’s seen people like them before, opening for the Doctor, performing at the same festivals, and they’re all fragile. That bond they claim is so sacred, so good means that a single death, like an artery being cut, breaks them. Grief is something ugly, something that makes those left behind foolish. It makes them spit out accusations at someone still armed, someone hungry they should be running and hiding from, that’s what they said. It brings tears that she can’t afford.</p><p>And she can’t have grief if she has nothing to lose. So she stays neutral, keeps her teeth from chattering and refuses to let her fists clench like they want to as they cut the latest monster open. She reminds herself what he’s done, all the thousands he’s hurt, but all she can hear is his screams, and she refuses to scream. She refuses to say no, because if she says no to this, then she has to say no again. To everything else. Everything worse. Everything colder, a little bit less necessary. </p><p>Necessary.</p><p>It’s for good. It’s all for good, that’s what they say. They say the line like they’ve been practicing a play for a hundred thousand years, and they’ve long since given up on the chance it’ll ever be performed. People will think of them what they will, what’s the point trying to change? What’s the point of trying to change? It’s good, to be useful, it’s good, to not suffer as much as she could. She wants to be able to bite her tongue forever, to keep all the fear out of her eyes. She doesn’t know what will happen when she can’t anymore.</p><p>Well. She knows what will happen.</p><p>She will be replaced.</p>
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